


Tempted By Paper Thin Walls

by Mingamelon



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Clothed Sex, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, Mild Language Kink, Pet Names, Sex From Behind, Wall Sex, Winter Palace sex, mild Cullen/female Inquisitor Trevelyan references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 07:05:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5575900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mingamelon/pseuds/Mingamelon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian's smile had eased into a mischievous smirk and he lowered his voice as he leaned close, his lips barely brushing against the shell of his lover's ear. "What would you say to us finding a way to relieve that pressure, pop your cork so to say, if you'll pardon the wine related puns."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tempted By Paper Thin Walls

**Author's Note:**

> I'm a firm believer that a lot of people were getting some during the Winter Palace ball, so... this happened.
> 
> Oberyn isn't my canon Inquisitor, that honor belongs to Melisandre. He joins the Inquisition as her bodyguard and ends up getting with Dorian over the course of the game's story. ♥

The Winter Palace was everything Oberyn Lavellan had expected and nothing he wanted. Everyone who had not come here from the Inquisition was staring at him, from grand Orlesian noble to lowly serving elf, as though seeing a Dalish elf with their own eyes was some sort of curiosity or spectacle to behold.

In truth, Oberyn had only come to the Winter Palace at the request of his half-sister, the Inquisitor Melisandre Trevelyan, who needed the aid of her companions to prevent the assassination of Empress Celene... not to mention see the Inquisitor through courting the Grand Game.

Orlesian cloak and dagger politics were the last things on his mind as Oberyn tilted his head back, draining his second glass of overly floral wine. "You may have done better to bring a weapon of some kind to see you through that group of suitors clustered around the Commander." He mused as they observed a group of women that had gathered about a rather embarrassed looking man. "Like a halla in the torchlight, that one."

Melisandre's cheeks warmed with a soft pink hue at his words. "Something tells me our hosts would not approve of me doing such a thing." She shifted the weight in her legs, her gaze not leaving Cullen.

"How do you know? Maybe murders done out of jealousy and spite are worth double points in the Grand Game. I'll have to ask Leliana about that later." Oberyn grinned when his jests earned him a soft laugh from his half-sister.

"Speaking of unwanted attention," Melisandre began, turning her sight on the Dalish elf. "Perhaps you should check in on Dorian. I imagine he might be feeling as out of place as Cullen, if not more so."

Oberyn personally doubted that, and even if the Tevinter mage did, he wouldn't show it at face value while among the Orlesians. Still, he couldn't deny the comfort he would feel from being beside his lover, and he took her up on the offer. "Send for me if you decide to contend with the others vying for the Commander's attention. A pity they don't know he only has eyes for you." Oberyn lamented with a playful note of tragedy in his voice.

The two exchanged a glance, one that assured Melisandre that he would be at her side if she needed him, and Oberyn started down a long, overly decorated hall that lead to an elaborate fountain garden. He glimpsed a few of the Inquisition in passing, Sera muttering off a lengthy list of nobility wrongdoings and Iron Bull sampling the bountiful spread of rich fares, but otherwise Oberyn kept his head high and expression firm as he walked among prying eyes.

The reassuring warmth of seeing Dorian among the various trellises and arches threaded with exotic vines and blooms was instantaneous, even more so when golden eyes met gray, and a smile appeared on the Tevinter mage's lips as Oberyn approached. "I was wondering where you had gotten off to."

"Having a good time without me?" Oberyn asked, motioning to the scattered groups of gossiping Orlesians, none of which were making any attempts to include them.

"Reminds me of home, actually." Dorian sighed in wistful irony.

Oberyn didn't have to imagine what a gathering in the Tevinter Imperium would be like before an intrusive thought slipped into his mind. _I would be gawked at even more had we attended a ball in Tevinter._

"I needn't ask you how much you're enjoying yourself." Dorian's voice broke into his thoughts.

"That obvious?" Oberyn asked as he managed to grab another glass of wine from a serving elf who was thankfully to busy to notice. "The Dalish rarely venture into cities or places like this. Haven and Skyhold are one thing, but Orlais... this is something completely different." He took a healthy drink of the perfumed vintage, ignoring the cloyingly sweet taste.

The Tevinter mage watched him with interest. "You seem to be bottling up quite a bit, if the drinks are any indication." Dorian's smile had eased into a mischievous smirk and he lowered his voice as he leaned close, his lips barely brushing against the shell of his lover's ear. "What would you say to us finding a way to relieve that pressure, pop your cork so to say, if you'll pardon the wine related puns."

Oberyn closed his eyes for a moment and it was as though they were back in Skyhold, where Dorian had propositioned they lay together for the first time. So much had changed for them since then, but one thing had remained the same- there was no stopping the unbridled lust from pooling in Oberyn's stomach when he saw Dorian looking at him like that, breathing tempting words into his ear...

The rogue pressed his lips to the rim of the glass as he looked to his lover. "I take it you have something in mind?"

"Don't I always?" Dorian eased the glass from Oberyn's hand, their fingers brushing as he finished the last of the wine.

The other man was quick to take the lead into the main hall, where Oberyn spotted that Melisandre had plucked up the courage to speak with Cullen amidst his admirers. Even at a distance, the rogue could tell that the Commander's full attention was on his half-sister and no one else, and that assured him that she would be under a protective, watchful eye while he tended to his needs.

The Winter Palace seemed impossibly large, with many wings and hundreds of rooms. There was no shortage of places they could steal away to and plenty of room for others that had the same mischievous thoughts, as Oberyn was doubtful he and Dorian were the only pair sneaking off for a bit of fun.

Dorian paused at a door and stopped to listen, waiting only a handful of seconds before taking Oberyn by the wrist and pulling him inside. The Dalish elf barely had time to take in a breath when he found himself pressed firmly against the door and heard the metallic click as his lover locked it.

Their lips met in a wanton clash of passion with small, sharp pulls of breath between them before delving in over and over again. One of Dorian's hands pinned both of Oberyn's by the wrist above his head and the other roughly pulled at the lacings of his breeches.

Oberyn shifted in an attempt to move his arms, to undress and touch his lover with reckless abandon, but Dorian kept him firmly in place. Instead, he rocked his hips forward, pressing and rutting against the Tevinter mage's hand, and pinning it between them.

"Now, now, _Amatus_..." Dorian drew back from their kisses to whisper into Oberyn's ear, causing a shiver to run down the Dalish elf's spine. "How will I ever undress you if you keep my hand stilled like that?" He turned his wrist slightly and cupped his lover through his breeches.

"Shit, Dorian... _ma vhenan_ -!" Oberyn pushed his hips forward again, seeking out the other's hand and the friction that came with it. He twisted against the door and managed to pull his wrists free of Dorian's grip. Oberyn's hands flew to the Tevinter mage's jacket and pulled it open so roughly that a button wrenched free, clattering to the floor. Neither of them paid that any mind, not when Oberyn got Dorian's shirt open, with one hand sliding up his lover's back while the other roamed his chest. He brushed a finger against a nipple and savored the low groan that sounded in Dorian's throat as he was stimulated.

Not to be outdone and now having both his hands to work with, Dorian finished with the laces of the Dalish elf's breeches and moved on to his own. He left no time for Oberyn to feel the relief of lessened confinement, and with nimble guidance, the Tevinter mage had both of their cocks in hand, stroking them in unison with quick flicks of his wrist.

Oberyn closed his eyes and leaned back against the ornate door, his legs spread to make it easier for him to roll his hips forward to the pace his lover had set. The rogue lifted a hand and grabbed for Dorian's hair in lustful desperation, his nails scraping against the scalp as he curled his fingers in the short, raven strands. "Don't even... don't even think about... stopping..." Oberyn panted between breaths.

"Why would I ever do such a thing?" Dorian asked with an air of false innocence and the Dalish elf easily imagined a smile to match the tone. He pressed the pad of his thumb against the head of Oberyn's cock, teasing the slit with carefully timed movements. "Look at me, _Amatus_." Dorian muttered with a soft, tempting huskiness.

Oberyn would have done damn near anything the Tevinter mage asked of him when he was spoken to like that, and the rogue eased his eyes open, finding himself transfixed by Dorian's intense, brilliant gaze. It was little wonder Oberyn began to feel the rush that signified his oncoming release, and he flexed his fingers in his lover's hair.

"Dorian-" Oberyn's voice broke before he could call out to the other a second time. He somehow managed to free a hand from under the back of Dorian's shirt and pull his own up, narrowly avoiding the streaks of white spilling onto the garment. In his bliss, Oberyn's words gave way to his mother tongue, and he leaned forward heavily, seeking out the warmth of his lover as elvhen words slipped past his lips.

While he hadn't reached his own climax, Dorian steadied the Dalish elf against him and continued to stroke them in unison with a slow rythm that gradually diminished and his hand stilled. "I will never tire of hearing you speak such words for me." He mused, lifting his hand to deftly lick away at his fingers.

Oberyn groaned softly at the sight and buried his face into the warm crook of his lover's neck. "You are going to be the death of me." He muttered in between kisses that inched up along Dorian's throat and jaw. "Wouldn't that be a way to go..."

"The Orlesians have a phrase for such an occurrence." The Tevinter mage pointed out, sliding his fingers into his mouth to wet them.

"I shouldn't be surprised, and yet I am." Oberyn shifted his legs further apart and leaned back against the door. His cock responded to the sight of the other like that, knowing full well what this would lead to.

Dorian moved his hand down between the juncture of the rogue's legs and tilted his head, leaning in close to breath the foreign words into his ear. " _La petite mort_."

"I think I'd rather the expression 'going out with a bang', myself-" Oberyn's words were cut off as Dorian skipped the teasing in favor of pushing a finger inside him. He closed his eyes and rocked back against his lover's hand. " _Ma vhenan_... Dorian, _ma vhenan_..." Oberyn whispered the words like a mantra as he was prepped, feeling a second finger enter, then a third. When Dorian eased his hand back, the rogue pushed his breeches to the floor and faced away, pressing his palms against the cool, varnished surface of the door.

The Tevinter mage was behind Oberyn a heartbeat later, pausing only for a moment to apply some kind of lubricant, be it something Dorian carried on his person or some kind of mage related trick, the Dalish elf certainly didn't care so long as it got the job done.

Oberyn's fingers curled against the polished wood as he felt his lover's hand on his hip, steadying him as Dorian guided himself forward to enter with a firm thrust. He moved a hand back to grasp at the other's hair again, flexing his fingers in black strands as Dorian began to roll his hips to a steadily gaining pace. The sound of fabric rumpling together and the friction against his skin was more of a turn on than Oberyn wished to admit, but there was something devilishly arousing with him being half clothed while Dorian remained in his finery, for the most part.

Using the hand against the back of his lover's head and bracing the other against the door, Oberyn pushed himself back against the Tevinter mage and rest his head against Dorian's shoulder. "Harder." He breathed urgently, closing his eyes.

"So impatient." Dorian tsked affectionately, but he nonetheless complied with the Dalish elf's request and shifted the weight in his legs to strengthen his thrusts. He pressed his nails into the skin of Oberyn's hip with one hand, while the other slid between his legs, fingers trailing the length of his lover's shaft. "I wonder... will you finish before me again, _Amatus_?"

There was a note of smug coyness in Dorian's voice that would surely send Oberyn over the edge if he dared let it, and at this point it felt like he was fighting an uphill battle even trying to resist. But even amid the pleasure he felt, there was something Oberyn wanted more, and he struggled to say the words among moans and gasps for air as Dorian's hips worked faster, stronger, and unrelenting in rhythm.

" _Ma vhenan_ , I want- I want..." Oberyn turned his head to the side, pressing a rough kiss to the corner of his lover's mouth. "Stop, I-"

It was that one single word that stilled Dorian's movements instantly, and he could hear the concern in the Tevinter mage's voice when he spoke. "Oberyn-"

Oberyn didn't give him the chance to ask if anything was wrong. He turned around and pulled his lover forward against him, their lips slamming together as he leaned back against the door. While he welcomed Dorian's wicked tongue into his mouth, he hurriedly kicked off a boot and somehow managed to slip his breeches off a leg without tearing them in his haste.

Dorian was as quick as ever to pick up on what his lover wanted. He helped the Dalish elf wrap his legs over his hips, then lowered Oberyn onto his cock once again, and found the angle of slamming upwards into him was far more satisfying than just taking him from behind. Despite his bragging, Dorian had reached his desire's peak with the change in position, and with a low groan and their foreheads tightly pressed together, their lips inches apart, he buried himself within the other as desire overtook him, leaving nothing but bliss in it's wake.

Oberyn trailed kisses along Dorian's lips and jaw, his eyes closed tightly and a low moan sounding deep in his throat as he was filled. It was all the Tevinter mage could do to support him against the door, so the Dalish elf pushed a hand between them and eased himself to completion with a few quick strokes.

"I think I could stand to attend a few more Orlesian parties if this was my reward for braving the social atmosphere." Oberyn smirked lazily when he found his voice again.

"I shall take that as permission for me to bring you along to any social occasion I see fit." Dorian chuckled softly as he eased himself back, just enough for his lover to set his feet on the ground once more.

The Tevinter mage was easily able to right his clothes, save for the button that had been pulled free earlier. Oberyn looked an absolute mess in comparison, with his shirt and jacket askew and his trousers hanging pathetically off one leg.

"Come here, let me see you fit for Orlesian company again." Dorian teased, and although his breeches were slightly wrinkled, he looked more presentable with his lover's help than if he would have tried righting the finery himself.

"I don't think I'm ever going to be used to this." Oberyn sighed, smoothing his hands along his breeches in a futile attempt to get the wrinkles out.

"All the more reason we should attend more social events together." Dorian smirked as he opened the door and caught his lover's eye. "You'll need more practice getting into such elaborate clothing... as well as getting out of them."

There was a mischievous promise in the other man's gaze, one that Oberyn was more than willing to return with a grin of his own as they left the room and rejoined the party.


End file.
